A New Twenty-Two
by Zuvie Girl
Summary: When an experimental potion goes wrong, Sirius finds himself in the body of a 22-year-old. Living in the same house with a 22-year-old Hermione, things are bound to get interesting. HG/SB. Noncanon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: It's been a while since I've written anything, but being a part-time student and having more time for boredom and distraction has given me the chance to write a bit more lately, so I've started a few new projects. This is kind of my take on a Sirius/Hermione, same age relationship, except without the time-travel. Bear with me. As always, please read, review, and enjoy**!

* * *

Hermione Granger stood in the basement kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place, mentally checking some of the calculations scrawled across her many pages of notes on the table. Satisfied with her math, she turned to the open potions kit next to her and carefully measured 3 5/8 ounces of Asphodel and 2 1/3 ounces of Fluxweed into her mortar, and proceeded to start grinding the ingredients into a very fine dust.

It had been four years since what would have been Hermione's final year at Hogwarts. The summer after everything, she had sat her N.E.W.T.s, and as predicted, did an incredible job on all of them. She had quickly joined the Experimental Spells and Potions division of the Department of Mysteries, and that was where she had been working for the past three and a half years.

Even though she was well known as the brightest witch of her age, and as one third of the Golden Trio, even Hermione had to start at the bottom of the ladder in the Department of Mysteries. Her big break had come two years prior when, using a complicated series of magnifying glasses, microscope and telescope lenses, and cameras, she had been able to copy and later decipher the many ruins that were etched along the stone arch that held what most people simply called the Death Veil.

She had been able to come up with a retrieval potion and spell that, using the DNA of the person who had been lost through the Veil, could pull them back into the living world.

Sirius was the only one who had been retrieved as of yet. Not many known people had fallen through the Veil, and those that did had done so many years ago, meaning that there was no longer useable or accessible DNA. In fact, in Sirius' case, the only reason they were able to retrieve him was because nobody had dared enter his upstairs bedroom at Grimmauld Place. When Hermione finally did out of desperation, she had been able to pull a few pieces of hair out of a comb that had been haphazardly thrown in the corner of the room.

After throwing the potion at the foot of the Veil and reciting the long incantation Hermione had come up with, Sirius Black finally stumbled back out of the Veil. He was wearing the same robes he had on that day, and looked as if he hadn't aged a day. He also looked very confused, as if he had expected to stumble back into the battle that he had left so abruptly six years ago.

Harry had of course been notified immediately, and was ecstatic, but in the end, it was decided that Sirius should go back to living at Grimmauld Place, since it was just Hermione there, and Harry, Ginny, and Ron all lived together. They also weren't sure how Sirius would do actually living in the house that his best friend had died in, even if it had been completely rebuilt.

Hermione shook her head, and with it shook away the memories. Her current project was a time-reversal potion. It was her idea for something to replace the Ministry stock of Time Turners that they had destroyed years earlier. Now it was just a matter of getting the potion right…

Her Asphodel and Fluxweed mixture was as fine as sand, and ready to be added to the rest of the potion boiling in the giant fireplace. She carefully added it to the cauldron, and patiently counted to 37 as she stirred counterclockwise, and then to 21 as she stirred the opposite direction.

She peered into the simmering potion, and happy with the golden color it had turned, she cast a cautionary fire-preventative charm around the flames, gathered her notes with a wave of her wand, packed up her potion kit with a second, and dimmed the lights as she went up to bed.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table, fully immersed in the _Daily Prophet_, when she heard Sirius come downstairs. "Breakfast's on the stove," she said absently.

"Hey, Hermione? What did you say you were working on right now?" he asked from the doorway.

Hermione kept reading, not sparing him a passing glance. "I didn't, Sirius, and you know it. I'm an Unspeakable, so I can't speak about what I'm working on, really."

"You told me quite a bit about your research on the Veil," he countered.

"That was only because you were very directly involved with my Veil research. Why are we arguing about this, Sirius?" she asked, bored and still distracted by the paper.

"Because I'm pretty sure I'm directly involved with this research as well. Put the damn paper down and look at me, Hermione!" he practically yelled.

With a drawn out sigh, Hermione set the paper on the table in front of her and looked up toward the doorway. She then spilled her hot tea all over the paper and herself in her haste to grab her wand.

The man in the doorway was not Sirius as she had ever known him, and yet, it was unmistakably him. The lines and gauntness that those years in Azkaban had marred his face with had disappeared like they had never been there at all. His dark hair, which had been seeing the beginnings of premature graying, was sleek and dark, with tendrils falling casually over his sparkling gray eyes, which had definitely not held that sparkle the day before. The untied housecoat over his bare chest showed tone and muscle that had gone to waste in prison and never come back, and all of the runic tattoos were gone. The only tattoo was a large paw print under his right collarbone.

"You… you look like…" Hermione stammered, at a loss for words.

He smirked. "I reckon I look a lot like I would have at right about your age had I not been in Azkaban. So I'll ask you again, what sort of potion are you working on right now? Because it appears that once again, I have to thank you for your brilliance."

A look of dawning horror crossed Hermione's face as she rushed to the fireplace. "Damn it, Sirius! Did you actually drink from an unknown potion? You can't really be that dense!"

He looked affronted. "I was rather pissed last night, and when I got home I thought you had left soup on for me. So I had a few sips before I decided that it didn't taste very good, and went up to bed. Then I woke up like this."

Hermione looked at him exasperatedly as she pulled out her notes and potions kit again. "When have I ever left food out for you on nights that I know you're drinking yourself stupid? I really thought you were smarter than that, Sirius. You're really quite lucky that this is all that happened to you, you know. An untested potion could have just as easily killed you. Again."

While she was scribbling away at her notes, and bottling a few portions of the golden potion before banishing the rest of it, Sirius poured them both new cups of tea and sat down at the table with his feet up watching her.

"I don't think you understand just how drunk I was last night. I am… er, maybe _was_, a 37-year-old wizard, who _does_ actually know a thing or two about how to handle unknown potions, especially ones in this house. So is this going to be permanent? You won't see me complaining if it is."

"But, even if you were drunk, Sirius…" Hermione said, shaking her head and trailing off. "I don't know. We'll have to see. The Fluxweed was meant to make it have dynamic properties, but then again, it was meant to be a time-reversal potion, kind of like a Time-Turner, but it clearly was more of a de-aging potion than a time-reversal one. Fascinating really, I was sure I had it right. Must have been too much Asphodel…"

She stopped her mumbling and peered up at him from across the table. "You still have all the mental capacity you had yesterday?"

"I remember everything except for the lost Veil years and whatever the hell I actually drank last night, if that's what you mean."

She nodded briskly. "I have to go into work and report this. Don't go anywhere. I'll be back in a few hours with Harry."

"This is my house. You can't tell me to not go anywhere," Sirius countered, lazily.

"Actually, it's mine, and you know it," Hermione said, casting one more appraising look at the apparently young man in her kitchen. "Stay put. And put some clothes on!"

22-year-old Sirius Black looked down at his bare chest and shrugged approvingly as she tore out of the room. He wasn't very likely to get dressed any time soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I know, I'm a terrible, horrible human being who can't update to save my life. I'm going to seriously attempt to make real progress on both of my active fics during the summer, so hopefully I can actually keep that goal this time. This is kind of a necessary filler chapter; I'm not especially thrilled with it, but it had to happen. I'll be going through the first chapter to make some changes to dates, but I tried to be as close to accurate with birthdays and other dates as I could be. As always, please read, review, and enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

Several hours later, Hermione stepped out of the fire at Grimmauld Place, quickly followed by a Healer, a Ministry official, and Harry.

Harry led the two guests into the sitting room while Hermione took a few steps up the stairs and called, "Sirius! We're ready for you – sitting room please!"

When he came down a few moments later, Hermione saw that he had swapped his pajama pants for a pair of black jeans that hung loose around his waist, as they had been bought for his older body. He was still shirtless.

Hermione groaned. "Sirius! I thought I told you to put a shirt on before I got back with our guests."

He shrugged and shot a wink at the pretty blonde, 30-something Healer. "Sorry, love. Must not have heard you."

Harry, meanwhile, was simply staring at Sirius with his mouth open, unable to speak.

Sirius saw him and laughed, walking over to shut his godson's mouth. "It's me, Prongslet. Believe it."

Harry scanned the face of the man in front of him, and suddenly broke into a grin, grabbing Sirius into a rough hug. "I've seen magic do a lot of things, Sirius, but this may be the most incredible!"

A quiet laugh came from the Healer behind them, and when they turned to look at her curiously, she ducked her head and said, "Sorry – you just don't know how much nostalgia it brings back to see a shirtless Sirius Black hug a Potter his own age."

Hermione took that opportunity to introduce their guests. "Sirius, this is Healer Maggie Kamp, and Mr. Richard Hayes from the Department of Registries at the Ministry. Healer Kamp is going to examine you to gather your bodily and mental ages, and Mr. Hayes will take that as an expert witness statement and have the appropriate changes made at the Ministry. Healer?"

"Thank you, Miss Granger. Sirius, you may not remember me, but I was a Gryffindor as well, two years below you. Anyway, I'm going to run a few basic diagnostic tests, a couple of memory exams, and then I'll need some blood and a piece of hair for DNA identification tests."

For the next 45 minutes, Sirius happily allowed the blonde Healer to poke and prod at him as she took notes on a piece of parchment that floated next to her.

"Mr. Hayes," Healer Kamp eventually said, "I can verify that the man you see in front of you is one Sirius Orion Black, born to Walburga Black née Crabbe and Orion Black on 3 November, 1959. However, all tests of the tests I ran show that his body is 22 years and 213 days old. With the exception of the four years during which he was trapped in the veil in the Department of Mysteries, Mr. Black retains all of the knowledge, experience, and memories of all of the years he's lived."

Hayes took out a fresh piece of parchment and a Dictaquil and cleared his throat, saying, "Richard Hayes, Department of Registries, requesting an official change to the records of Sirius Orion Black, on this, the fifth day of June, in the year 2001. From here on out, Mr. Black shall be officially considered the age he would be if he were born on the third of November in the year 1979, instead of the year 1959. This change has been confirmed by St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries Healer Maggie Kamp in front of witnesses Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

He rolled up the parchment and put a Ministry seal on it, before waving his wand and making it disappear.

"I know that a sample of Miss Granger's potion has been submitted for analysis," he said, "but for your sake, Mr. Black, I hope this is a permanent change. Unofficially, I think the Ministry has cheated you of several years of your life, in various ways. Also, I've had to make the changes to your records when you died, came back to life, and then now. No offense, but I'd rather not do it again."

"I'm fairly sure that if the potion wasn't permanent, he would have started to revert already," Hermione said, assuring both Mr. Hayes and Sirius who had looked up in alarm. "If I see any changes, though, I'll be sure to let you know."

As soon as Kamp and Hayes left through the Floo, Sirius grabbed Harry, who was now slightly shorter and slimmer than he was, and giddily spun him around in a hug. "We're the same age, Harry! No Voldemort, no post-Azkaban effects, we've got our whole lives ahead of us!"

"Technically, I'm still 21 for almost 2 more months," Harry said, laughing at how happy Sirius was.

"But," he said, a wide grin splitting his face, "Hermione _is_ older than you are now. So, if she tells you to put a shirt on, you better do it!"

Hermione flushed as the two men collapsed in laughter, before heading to her upstairs room.

* * *

Harry, Hermione, and Sirius had elected to wait until that Saturday to celebrate Sirius' new-found youth, as Ron would be back from the training trip he was on with the new Auror recruits and Ginny had a bye week and would be able to be home.

Hermione was attempting to tame her hair when she heard the bell on the Floo fireplace go off, and she yelled for Sirius to greet Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

A few minutes later, Ginny burst into Hermione's room wearing a dark green dress with a gold belt (always representing the Harpies) that was both far too short and too tight for Hermione's taste, her long braid whipping around her shoulder as she quickly shut the door before leaning against it and fanning herself.

"Merlin, Hermione!" she gasped. "I've seen a few pictures before, and I knew he was good looking, but that man downstairs is FIT! If I wasn't happily married to Harry, I'd be down there twirling my hair and flirting as hard as I could. And it's just you and him alone in this house… You're a strong, strong woman, Hermione."

As she pulled on her second boot and laced it up, she dryly replied, saying, "It takes more than looks to make a man attractive, Gin."

Ginny laughed. "Ordinarily, I'd agree with you, but there are some times where the looks make up for the attitude."

Hermione looked at Ginny incredulously, "Ginny, that's Harry's god-father, no matter how old or young he looks. That basically makes him your god-father by marriage. He is still technically a man in his mid-thirties. Just no."

Ginny grabbed Hermione by her hands and pulled her up from the bed, saying, "Whatever you say, you crazy woman. Come on, the boys decided we're going to the Leaky. They're waiting for us, and you know how much all three of them like to wait."

Once the girls had joined the other three downstairs, they apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny unashamedly used the fact that she was a professional Quidditch player to trick a group of drunk, middle-aged men into giving up their large booth, and the five of them slid into their spots around the table.

Harry and Sirius left shortly to go to the bar with drink orders, and each came back carrying a tray – Harry with the drinks that had been asked for, and Sirius with a tray of five coal-black drinks that were shooting off red and gold sparks.

As Sirius passed a shot to each of them, he explained, "This is a drink that James and I spent an entire summer working on with old Tom over there. Honestly surprised he still remembered it, but glad he did. We ended up calling it the Black Sheep, and trust me, you don't want to know what's in it. A toast? To youth and life!"

"To youth and life" the other four chorused, pulling various faces as they threw back the drinks.

"Merlin, Sirius!" Ron choked out. "That makes Firewhiskey seem like it goes down easy!"

"Are there any other shots on the secret drink menu you and Tom share?" Ginny asked, with an impish grin on her face.

Sirius' face lit up, and he eagerly replied, "Oh, yes! We'll do the Lovely Lily next – Prongs came up with that one with Lily in mind, of course. She could turn from proper to fiery in an instant. The entire night is on me, by the way, so don't worry about anything. I'll be right back!"

The Lovely Lilies turned out to be vibrant green drinks which tasted like mint initially, but then shocked the drinker with a layer of very strong Firewhiskey mixed with spicy cinnamon at the bottom, that left Hermione and Ron dabbing at their streaming eyes with napkins.

Everyone at the Leaky Cauldron knew who Harry, Ron, and Hermione were, of course, and most of them knew of Ginny either as Harry's wife or as a famous chaser for the Harpies. Between the looks they got normally, their increasing loudness as the night went on, and the frequent trips the mysterious fifth member of their group kept making to and from the bar, they were gathering a lot of attention.

Three hours in to their celebration, Harry and Ginny were off in an empty corner, slow dancing to non-existent music, and Hermione was idly chasing the ice cubes around her empty glass as she pretended to be interested in the conversation Ron and Sirius were having about some of George's newest ideas for the joke shop.

All of a sudden, they were interrupted when a tiny little woman wearing an even tinier skirt leaned unsteadily over the back of the booth, roughly bumping into Hermione's head and spilling her drink down Hermione's front.

"Oops!" she trilled, batting her eyes at Sirius and completely oblivious to the daggers Hermione was glaring at her. "I seem to have spilled my drink. Would you like to buy me another one?"

"Oh, please," Hermione snorted in disbelief, but Sirius was up in a heartbeat, following the swing of the girl's long black hair to the bar, stopping along the way to wink and send dazzling smiles to what looked to be a hen party.

Hermione tossed a couple of Sickles onto the table, before turning to tell Ron that she was going home to get out of the sticky mess that her shirt now was. In the short amount of time it had taken for her to dig out the tip money, a blonde had slid onto the bench next to Ron and had started to shove her tongue down his throat, to which he happily obliged.

With an eye roll, she apparated away in disgust.

* * *

The next morning, as Hermione made her way to the kitchen, she passed a trail of shoes and clothing leading to the room Harry and Ginny shared when they stayed at Grimmauld place, and Ron passed out halfway up the third flight of stairs.

Feeling completely fine, she busied herself in starting breakfast and a special tea recipe of hers that was especially good at curing hang-overs, and then sat down to read the _Prophet_ and wait for the rest of the house to rejoin the land of the living.

Fifteen minutes later, she heard the creak of a door from upstairs, and two sets of footsteps attempting to make their way quietly to the front door. To Hermione's further horror and disgust, she could just see Sirius giving a rather thorough good-bye kiss to the little dark-haired girl from the bar.

_To youth and life indeed_, she thought harshly.


End file.
